


Stasis.

by CaptainBushel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1 am in one night so sorry if its shit, F/M, i guess this is mildly angsty??? whatever, i wrote this at like, jesus fuck its been a while, mentions of depression, please be nice to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainBushel/pseuds/CaptainBushel
Summary: You wish that you could hold him in your arms again, and he could tell you everything would be alright.





	Stasis.

**Author's Note:**

> HEY HI HELLO I WROTE THIS IN ONE NIGHT I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT   
> Feel free to comment with some nice criticism if you wish!!

You missed him. The gentle touch of his cold metal arm, the way he smiled when you tickled him, how he'd complain about your chick flicks but still sit down and watch them with you. You missed screwing around on missions with him when it was safe, and usually getting glared at by people as you and Bucky cackled inside your apartment building. But you had lost him now, and you didn't know when he was coming back. 

Maybe coming back wasn't the right phrase. He was right there before you, but he was encased in his glass chamber, suspended in time. At night, when nobody was near the tube, you would go into the room, and hug the glass. You'd tell him about Steve's latest letter, or about how clear the stars were out here in Wakanda. You knew he couldn't hear you, but it comforted you to trace hearts in the glass and listen to the sound of your own voice. It lessened the pain of waiting while the doctors worked every day to get HYDRA out of his mind, so he could come home.

Some nights, you'd sit with your back against the glass and remember. You'd remember the way he ran his hands through your hair, and the soft way he moved his lips against yours on those rainy mornings together. How the first time he kissed you was in an alleyway so your mission cover wouldn't be blown, but the two of you had just skirted around it for ages. Sometimes it made you cry, but most of the time it just made you wish. Wish that he had never been warped into the Winter Soldier, that he could still wrap you up in one of those crushing bear hugs he was great at, that he could pick you up bridal style and carry you to bed. 

On the nights when you did cry, you comforted yourself with the thought that he couldn't have nightmares in cryo sleep. He wouldn't jolt awake and cling tightly to you, holding you close so you could feel his pounding heart as you tried to gently sooth him. He wouldn't scream, or flail about to try and escape from the torments of his dreams. He was safe from his mind in there, no matter how much you missed him. 

You wanted him back. You wanted back lazily waking up with him peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses as you stretched and hummed happily. You wanted back making coffee in the kitchen only to be wrapped in a hug and slowly sway from side to side as he kissed you gently, making you smile. You wanted back his sarcastic, cutting wit. You wanted back the awed look in his eyes after kissing you, as if he couldn't believe that he had you and you had him and the two of you were happy. You wanted back the quiet moments in the apartment the two of you had shared in Romania, tipsy and softly giggling as you both danced, bodies pressed together tightly, his head nestled on top of yours as you forgot about the way the world wanted him, and how HYDRA could come at any time for the both of you. 

But no matter how hard the doctors worked, they seemed no closer to bringing him back to you. Nearly two months had gone by, and nobody had given you an update on his condition and when he might feasibly come back to you. So you kept up your nightly routine of visiting him, and falling asleep during the night only to be awoken by the scientists and doctors coming in every morning, telling you that you needed to eat and sleep. You did eat, but not much. You slept, but even less than you ate. 

Every time Steve called, he expressed his concern over your state. He didn't even know you, but you were important to his best friend and so he cared about you in an elder brother sort of manner. He asked how often you ate, how many hours you slept, if progress was being made. Usually, he asked you to come to New York with him, and tour the Avengers compound, clearly suggesting that the team wanted to add you to the roster. You refused every time, telling him you couldn't be gone when Bucky came out. He nodded in a sad understanding, seeming to get that you wanted to be there, to assure him that time hadn't moved on without him like it had for Steve. 

Occasionally, people who didn't know your reason would look at you questioningly as you walked through the building Bucky was kept in, staring at how you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn't let it bother you. If they wanted to stare, you couldn't stop them. It was your business why you were there. 

During the day, you made yourself work. Bucky didn't have his metal arm any longer, so you worked on building one the best you could. T'Challa had given you access to a metal shop, where you worked away your days, building him an arm the best you could. By some miracle, you had even been given access to a small bit of vibranium, which you combined with the strong base metal you were using. You though your work wasn't horrible, and it could be modified in the future. You knew that Steve planned on having you and Bucky move into the compound when he came out of cryo, and you figured you could coax Stark into modifying your base work into something amazing. But for now, you worked, no matter how your hands ached, because if you couldn't help him with his mind, you could help out with something else for him. 

As the third month drew to a close, the arm was finished, and sat in your room in a box. You were beginning to feel that he was slipping away from you. You could do nothing to help. It was the end of the third month that the tears stopped coming, and the heavy silence took their place. A part of you began wondering if taking Steve's offer would be better, with how you were wasting away. The beginning of the fourth month was the turning point, not over the edge, but back up the mountain you had left, as you threw aside the heavy curtains of grief that had closed to signal intermission, and raised them as you went back out on stage just to show that you still could. The beginning of the fourth month was when you stopped surrendering, and started to fight back. 

You began training in a nearby gym, working to get back in shape from all of the muscle you had lost. You forced yourself to socialize with Steve, and call him up more often so he didn't have to initiate conversations. You felt happier. Lighter. Bucky never left your mind, you just simply changed what you were doing for him. Instead of waiting for him, you worked for him by caring for yourself. You became his partner in crime again, the woman who had been able to strangle dozens of guards without a sound. You stopped sulking and forced yourself to get it together, so Bucky wouldn't feel horrible for making his choice. 

Towards the end of the fourth month, it finally happened. The scientists broke through, and they removed the brainwashing as he sat there in the tube, eyes kept shut. They sent an intern to tell you they were letting him out, and you literally ran to the room, eyes wide, praying this wasn't some prank. When the tube actually began opening, you felt tears spill down your face without warning, and you caught him in your arms as he fell forward, breathing steadily. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled as he saw you, crying as you supported him. He leaned his forehead against yours, and gently murmured to you. 

"Wasn't any need to worry, doll. You know I'll always come home to you." You laughed softly, and you kissed him, the two of you standing there, together after what felt like forever and then a little bit more. You didn't want to let go.


End file.
